"Seriously?"
"What?" Tony looked at Pepper, and then at the cake that Peter had set on the table in the corner. "It looks fine."
Pete snorted.
"It's lopsided."
He and Pepper had been playing cards with Natasha and Clint. It was one of the very few differences they had discovered between Pete and Peter; the boy from the other reality happened to be very good at cards and enjoyed playing them. Probably from being under the tutelage of Stephen and Wong, Tony had hazarded. The magicians liked playing cards and it only made sense that Pete would, as well.
"No it isn't," Peter told him. "It just has more frosting on that side, and it makes it look lopsided."
Both boys grinned at that, and Pepper shook her head.
"What does the kitchen look like?" she asked, noticing that both Tony and Peter had flour, cocoa powder, and frosting smeared on their clothing – and in their hair.
"It might need some cleaning," Tony admitted. "Baking is messy business."
"Then I suggest you go clean it," she told him – and Peter. "I don't think it's fair that we leave that to the kitchen staff. Do you?"
Since it was obvious what answer she was expecting, Tony rolled his eyes.
"I suppose not."
"I'll help," Pete offered.
"Thank you."
Tony had seen the mess that he and Peter had left, and wanted nothing to do with it – although he did agree with Pepper that it wouldn't be fair to ask the kitchen staff (who were responsible for cooking their dinner and should definitely not be antagonized) to clean up after Peter's home economics class.
"If you talk Pepper into letting me have a tattoo…"
Peter snorted, cheerfully, and hid the noise behind his hand as a cough.
"Sorry…" he said, his eyes amused. "Must have some flour in my throat."
"Deal," Tony said, quickly. "Go help Peter clean the kitchen, and I'll try to talk Pepper into letting you have a tattoo."
"You have to really try," Pete told him.
"I will."
Pete got up, setting his cards down, and Tony took the vacated spot, and picked up the boy's cards, feeling – and looking – pretty smug at getting out of cleaning the mess. Peter and Pete both headed toward the kitchen, leaving the cake on the table, so it could be served for dessert that evening.
"You're pretty sneaky," Pepper accused Tony, her eyes amused, despite the chastisement.
"Sometimes," he agreed, winking at Romanoff. "You should let him get a tattoo."
"Because…?"
"Because he really wants one."
"That isn't a very good reason, Tony."
"When he gets home and if May hates it, she can have Stephen remove it, though, right?" he looked at Natasha. "Right?"
She shrugged.
"No idea. But if Pete gets a tattoo, he isn't going to want it removed."
"And May can deal with those big brown eyes of his," Tony said, smirking. "She's had more practice at it than we have, and she'd be better at telling him no than we are. Besides," he added. "If it's something tasteful – not a giant skull and crossbones across his chest, or something – she might like it."
Pepper had plenty more ability to resist Tony than she did Peter. Or Pete. She didn't immediately say no, however, and she shrugged.
"Let me think about it."
Clint made an amused noise that made Pepper scowl, well aware that she had no willpower when it came to Peter.
"Shut up, Arrow Guy."
Which made Tony and Natasha both snort.
OOOOOOOOOO
"Wow…"
Peter looked around the kitchen, objectively.
"It's not that bad," he told Pete.
"It's pretty bad."
There was a metal prep table that they'd used for the majority of their baking activities. The mixing of the ingredients into a bowl – where there was now a dusting of flour, sugar, cocoa powder and broken eggshells and some spilled milk. The same area had been used to pour the mix into a couple of round baking pans – and there was plenty of evidence that all of the batter hadn't actually made it into those pans. Then, once the cake pans were out of the oven, Tony and Peter had put the cake together, decorating it with frosting that they'd made from scratch, as well – as evidence by even more ingredients strewn on the table.
The floor around the table was littered with eggshells, pieces of a broken measuring cup that had simply been scooted aside, for the time being, and a set of measuring spoons. The mixing bowls (one for the batter and one for the frosting), the whisks and spoons and the cake pans were all scattered around the area and there were chocolate fingerprints and smudges on every surface.
"Have you done Home Ec, yet?"
"This next quarter."
"Well, then, you'll see…"
"But I'll be doing it in the classroom," Pete pointed out, reaching for a discarded apron and using it to wipe down a place on the table to start stacking utensils. "So it won't be so bad. And I'll have Ned to blame if it is."
Peter grinned at that.
"Good point."
They started picking up the bowls and other items, carrying them to the sink where they could be cleaned out and also grabbing some dishcloths.
"Can I ask you something?" Pete said, suddenly. "And you can't look at me like I'm crazy."
The boy nodded.
"Sure."
"Do you ever think of someone?" he asked. "Worrying about them, or wondering what they're doing, and then suddenly see them in your mind?"
"Don't tell him about the mind stone," Alec reminded Peter – unnecessarily. "Not even a hint. If he goes home and mentions it to Stephen, there's a chance it could trigger them having discussions about it and that could lead to serious things happening."
"Right."
"You said you wouldn't look at me like I was crazy," Pete reminded him, mistaking Peter's silence for just that.
"I don't think you're crazy, at all," Peter assured him. "That happens to me a lot. Especially if the Avengers are away on an assignment, or something, and I'm worried about them."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Of course. I think it's just my subconscious trying to make me feel better and showing me what I want to see."
"Very good," Alec approved.
The other boy hesitated, clearly thinking that over.
"Yeah. That makes sense."
"Change the subject," Alec suggested. "Before he gets you to talk."
The ancient sorcerer was amused, and Peter couldn't help but smile, even as he denied being that talkative. Even though it was true – and he really didn't have much of a filter when it came to secrets – as long as they weren't Spider-man secrets.
"What kind of tattoo are you going to get if Pepper lets you?" he asked, crouching down to start picking up the broken pieces of measuring cup, and being careful not to cut himself. "Something crazy?"
"No." Pete wiped the table and realized that he'd wiped the mess onto the back of Peter's head. The other boy didn't notice because he didn't see it, and luckily there was already a lot of flour in Peter's hair, already. "If May doesn't like it – or if it's inappropriate – she could probably have Doctor Strange remove it, somehow, with magic. So it has to be something subtle. Or tasteful."
"A Spider-man tattoo?"
"Probably something with a webbing theme. That wouldn't be too crazy, right?"
"Mine has webbing."
"Yeah. Pepper suggested no Avenger theme because it would be presumptuous since I don't know them in my reality, but unlike you, everyone in my world knows I'm Spider-man, so I don't need to worry about people figuring it out."
"True." He stood up and dumped the broken glass into a paper bag and then into the garbage. "We could probably think of something," he offered. "Then, if Tony doesn't talk her into letting you have one by the time we're done with this, I'll help you work on her over dinner and we'll see if we can wear her down."
Pete's eyes lit up.
"Thanks."
"Just don't tell May I had anything to do with it," he replied, grinning, and then frowning when he ran his fingers through his hair and a shower of flour and other white powders flitted down onto his shoulders and shirt. "I don't want her mad at me, too."
"I won't."
"But if she likes it, it was all my idea," Peter added.
"Of course."